Julius Amell, Circle Mage Extraordinaire
by MercJules
Summary: Julius Amell has struggled to come to terms with his life in the Circle Tower. As his harrowing draws near, events begin to spiral out of control. One Mage's Journey through a blight-ridden Thedas. Warnings: Some language, lite naughtiness and MxM.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Tower Life_

Mist swirled around Julius' robes as he walked softly through the fade. A barren shoreline stretched before him; the pale gray sand merging with the storm-colored sky at the horizon. The dark waters of Lake Calenhad were restless. The waves undulated in time with the mage's heartbeat. The scene was familiar; a nightmare he often found himself in when stress from the waking world wore his barriers down.

Julius paused and turned his head to the right - his blue eyes captivated - as a wooden dock began to shape itself into existence. An imposing warrior in full plate-armor began to form out of the mist where the dock met the shoreline. The flaming sword on his chest plate, the holy symbol of Andraste which marked members of the Templar order, blazed a brilliant blue as the specter turned from his post at the end of the dock and began to walk its length. The waves increased in intensity as Julius' heart began to race. He stood paralyzed by fear and the knowledge that he could do nothing to stop what comes next.

The Templar reached the end of the dock and in his arms the mage could now see that he held a small bundle swaddled in white linens. The Templar turned its head and, regardless of the full helmet covering its face, Julius could feel its eyes meet his. He watched in horrified silence as the Templar raised his burden above the raging surf. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound would come as he witnessed the Templar dropping his burden into the icy waters. Julius stood helpless as the bundle lost its battle with the waves and slowly sank into the depths. He shut his eyes tight, willing himself to wake, pleading with the Maker for the dream to end. Laughter began to fill the air around the distraught mage, gaining in volume and malicious intent. Suddenly, the sand below Julius' feet dissolved and he was swallowed up by the cold darkness.

**OOOO**

His eyes shot open. Gasping for breath, Julius began to tear frantically at the sheets wrapped tight around his body. He didn't even register his bed-mate, until a warm arm slipped around his waist and pulled his back flush against a strong chest.

"Shhh…it's okay, you're safe." It took a few moments for the comforting words to register. When his struggling eased, the arm shifted and a hand began to massage gentle, healing magic into the taut muscles of his stomach and abdomen. Despite the warmth of their bare skin, he couldn't stop shaking.

"Easy does it…you're okay now." The voice continued to reassure Julius.

He took a deep breath and rolled over to meet the amber eyes of a beautiful blonde. He smiled in thanks and ran his hand over the man's stubble, stretching his graceful neck to kiss the senior mage's soft lips. Julius paused to take in the sight of his slightly older friend, whose bed he was currently taking refuge in. "Thanks for letting me stay, Anders. I couldn't take another moment trapped in the apprentice quarters."

The senior mage chuckled and stretched his tall, shapely body across the small bed. Julius lazily followed, his head coming to rest on Ander's chest. "You won't be thanking me, when you realize how late you are to your lessons…"

Julius shrugged "Jowan will cover for me; he owes me one." _More than one, _he added silently. The mage wasn't concerned in the least with skipping morning sessions. They were generally just refreshers on fundamentals he had long since grasped. Sometimes, there were even lectures on the history of the Chantry thrown in for variety, he scoffed mentally. At any rate, he was already serving life in prison for the crime of being born with magic. What punishment could they possibly inflict on him that was worse than that? Hell, it might even make a nice change from the tedium that was tower life. Senior Enchanters, like Wynne, could preach that the tower was a safe haven for mages until they were blue in the face. The truth was, Julius hadn't stepped foot outdoors since he was five years old. He hadn't felt a single ray of sunlight that wasn't filtered through bars set in deep, narrow windows. Windows which, even lacking the bars, were set too high for a man to catch a glimpse of the world beyond these stone walls.

Anders cleared his throat, ensuring that the younger mage was paying attention. "As your mentor, I must say that I am appalled at your blatant disregard for classes." The playful rebuke was followed by a wink. Julius snorted and rolled his eyes. Rotating his head up to face Anders, he watched as the smile slowly faded from his friend's face, settling itself into a frown. "Seriously though, as your friend, you can't pull too many stunts like this."

Julius shook his head in exasperation and felt his long, dark hair slide across bare shoulders. "Says the man who's escaped, unsuccessfully I might add, 4 times now." He grinned and gently poked the elder mage in his ribs, trying to keep the discussion light-hearted.

"That's different; I laid low until after my Harrowing. They can still punish me for the escape attempts, but they can't use the rite of tranquility now. It's illegal to use it on full mages"

Julius shuddered and looked away. The Rite of Tranquility was performed on mages who were either too cowardly to submit to their Harrowing (a rite of passage all apprentices must go through to earn status as a full mage) or deemed too much of a safety-risk to be allowed full use of their magic. Tranquility was a gruesome ordeal which severed the connection between a mage and the fade. Without that connection it left mages husks of their former selves; unable to experience emotions of any kind. Julius tried hard to avoid the tower's resident Tranquils in his day to day life. It was gut-wrenching to see them. Their bodies functioned, they could speak, and they could take direction but the spark – the essence – that made them human (or elf) was gone. "I doubt they'll make me tranquil just for failing to attend a few lessons. Lessons that I've already mastered, by the way" he sneered. His arrogant tone was meant as a joke, but his confidence was well-founded.

Anders raised his eyebrow at his junior but didn't put forth any arguments. It wasn't a secret that Julius was quite talented in the primal and spirit schools of magic, even arcane spells were not giving the mage much trouble. He shifted on the bed and sighed, quietly; his concern for his friend's welfare was not easily put off. Regardless of the casual air Julius projected, he'd known the man for close to 10 years now and could tell when the armor was chipping. The day-to-day life of a circle mage was an exercise in keeping yourself _just _busy enough that the walls didn't begin to shrink around you. An exercise he himself had trouble with. Thus, all the escape attempts.

"So, what was the nightmare about?"

Julius cringed at the abrupt change of topic. He wasn't in the habit of sharing his fears with anyone. Even old friends like Anders and Jowan didn't know how deeply affected he was by life in the tower. He was brought, kicking and screaming, into the circle at the age of five. Twenty years had passed since, and he knew full well that he would live out the rest of his life surrounded by these walls. Knowing this, he had not made life easy for the senior mages and the First Enchanter who had tried to step into the roles of 'parent' to him over the years. While he was grateful for their attempts, and did see them as a family of sorts, he had always felt awkward accepting their comfort. It wasn't right that he had been ripped away from his birth parents and his warm home. He didn't recall much, but he did remember his mother's voice as she screamed his name and he remembered his father being held down by two large Templars. In his opinion, accepting a surrogate family would be dishonoring the memory of his parents who had fought, unsuccessfully, to keep him free. He used to pretend that he was a lost prince, trapped in a foreign prison and that any moment someone would come swooping to the rescue. He had imagined that rescue; hundreds of shining knights led by his Father, the king, who would storm the Tower gates, slay his captors and ride off into the setting sun to meet his Mother back at their castle. When that never happened, he had turned his bitterness into action and resolved to make life as miserable for his captors as it was for him. Julius smiled to himself. In 20 years he had gained a thorough working knowledge of exactly how easy it was to piss off a Templar and at some point along this path of childish pranks and would be rebellions, he had also come to a realization. In the Tower he didn't own anything, everything was provided for his use by the circle, but it wasn't his possession. The only things Julius truly owned were what he carried with him - his body, his heart and his mind. He had vowed to himself that no one would ever rob him of these. The Templars couldn't break what they couldn't touch and they couldn't steal what he freely gave. So, he maintained the playful arrogance and the cheeky attitude because: one, no one likes a whiner and two, he wouldn't let the Templars have the satisfaction. And, if he was a hero, mentor, lover, or even if he could make a fellow mage laugh (perhaps by 'accidently' setting fire to the Knight Commander's beloved tapestries) he was scoring points, right? So he faced his friend, wrapped his armor of jokes and lewd smiles tightly around him and deflected Anders as best he could.

"I can't quite seem to recall…" Julius teased as he stood from the bed and raised his arms; stretching his lithe figure at just the right angle to give Anders a good show. And Anders _always_ appreciated a good show. His thighs and buttocks were toned from years of running up and down the tower stairs and, while he didn't have the physique of a soldier; his arms, chest, and abs were well developed by hours of daily sparring and staff work. His skin was clear of blemishes, aside from the scar wrapping around his left fore-arm, but he was pale from the lack of sun exposure. As the younger mage turned his lean, rectangular face towards his friend, Anders couldn't help but think that the strong jaw and high cheekbones would be better suited to nobility than to a tower mage. Even the light stubble that consistently graced his jawline couldn't diminish the image.

Anders shook his head to clear the images of last night from his mind. "Bullshit" He said "I'll never understand why you don't trust me enough to help you. You know so much about Jowan and me, yet you share nothing of yourself."

"I shared quite a bit with you last night…" Julius remarked as he waggled his dark, perfectly-shaped eyebrows.

"It's NOT the same, Julius."

"Look, Anders, It's not about 'not trusting you.' And anyway, what does it matter…it was just a bad dream. We're mages, it comes with the territory."

"So…was it a demon, then?" He said quietly. Demons were inhabitants of the fade, creatures that embodied the vices of mankind; sloth, rage, greed and desire to name a few. Because Mages were able to interact with the fade during their dreams, they were attractive to these demons. The demons saw mages as an escape to the waking-world, and were always willing to barter for a 'free ride.' Blood mages often sought out these demons as a way to augment their mana, or power, reserves. The Demon would take their blood sacrifice and convert it into a useable form of magic. Their 'price' depended on the bargain you struck. Often, it was the mage's soul.

"Ugh, I don't…look, it was an awful dream, but it's over. There was no tempting involved, no blood rituals or virgin sacrifices. If it was a demon's handiwork it didn't seem to want anything - other than getting its kicks by harassing me. Can we just drop this?"

Anders studied him as Julius paced the small room, searching for his clothes. He began to pull them on with an efficiency born of practice. Practice more than likely earned in dark corners, hoping the Templars didn't start their next shift early, or the infamous empty broom closets. Not much else you could do to get your kicks around here.

Finally, dropping the subject as a lost cause, Anders changed topics. "I do have a few actual warnings for you."

"Oh?"

"The first should be pretty self-evident, but, you're going to need to take a break from - how shall I put this delicately - _tempting _the new Templar recruits. It's rumored that you've caught the attention of the Knight Commander and that's never a good thing; especially, when he's still pissed off at you about the tapestry incident."

Julius raised his brows in surprise as the normally, easy-going Anders slipped into his role of mentor. It's how he had first met Anders, actually. Most apprentice mages were assigned an elder who would act as a guide and role-model. Someone with whom you could sympathize and that could answer questions you wouldn't feel comfortable bringing to the senior enchanters' attention. It also gave the elder mages an outlet, something to do with their time.

"Noted, I will refrain myself from corrupting the new recruits. Next?" Julius' voice was muffled by the heavy robes he was pulling over his head.

"You need to speak with Jowan."

"About what?" His voice sounded genuinely curious for the first time since he had woke.

"I'm concerned about him, and I hear the First Enchanter is as well. He's been 'curious' about things he shouldn't be."

"I'm assuming this isn't a harmless, I'm-sure-that-blood-will-wash-out kind of curious"

Anders was silent for a moment, before continuing.

"You're not far off. Jowan…was found to be 'researching' some rather unpleasant techniques."

"Could you please be less vague, Anders? I've only just woken up from what probably amounted to an hour of sleep; the Knight Commander is apparently aware of my liaisons with his recruits; and if he doesn't kill me for that, I am more-than-likely looking at some serious alone time in the dungeons - and not the fun kind. Frankly, I need a bit more context in order to be properly concerned…"

"Are you really so dense?" Anders quickly interrupted. "I'm trying to tell you that the First Enchanter and Knight Commander suspect your best friend of, if not practicing, then at least researching blood magic!"

Julius froze and stared at Anders. He thought he had just heard him say that Jowan was a blood mage and that couldn't possibly be true. It was, in fact, laughable. "Um, Excuse me? Did I hear you right?" He pictured the short, nervous, goof-ball and could only see the friend who had stuck by his side since the day he was escorted into the circle. The friend who had helped him fend off bullies, patched him up when the fights didn't end well, and made him laugh when the world inside the tower got a little too dark. He knew that Jowan had seemed a little down lately, but, everyone has their moments. He would not have sold his soul to a demon because of a few bad days. He wasn't that desperate, right? Julius tried to remember the last time he'd truly had a conversation with his friend. Something other than the old 'how's the weather' joke. Had he really missed something so important?

Anders just stared back at Julius, more serious than he'd ever seen him.

"I need to go. I need to find Jowan." He finished lacing up his knee-high boots and smoothed down his blue apprentice robes.

"Julius, just…be careful, alright? I'm not sure what's going on with Jowan. He won't talk with me. I know that It's all just rumors at this point and I don't believe that Irving or Greagoir have enough evidence to act on them. But, please, for my sake and for your own be smart about this. Guide him from this path if possible, but if not…Andraste's ass, I don't want to lose you both."

"Jowan is my best friend. I'll do whatever it takes…" and with that Julius flew from the room. He walked quickly through the narrow corridors and past his fellow mages; winding his way down the tower stairs towards the ground level where the apprentices were housed. Unlike harrowed mages who had their own rooms, the apprentices all shared one common area for sleeping and socializing, separated by gender of course. It had been explained to him once that the apprentices were housed on the lower levels in the idea that the higher you rose within the tower, the more important you were. He guessed it made some sense, as the Templars quarters were all at the top, directly above the First Enchanter's office, libraries, and such. Personally, Julius preferred the ground floor - it was closer to the door; although he'd yet to figure out a way to take the advantage.

Julius had just arrived in the first of the two long rooms belonging to the circle's apprentices when he heard his name called out. 'Shit,' he thought, 'I don't need this right now.'

The voice was commanding, but oddly soothing for a Templar, one he recognized immediately. He straightened up and turned to face the fair-haired recruit, schooling his expression into one of respectful innocence; an expression which he had to put hours of work into perfecting. It had been the source of much teasing and entertainment for Anders and Jowan.

"Can I help you Ser Cullen?" Julius replied, adding a bit of honey to his voice - a smooth tone that had won him out of a few scuffles and into just as many beds.

"Yes, actually…well, I…If you could please…" Cullen flushed pink and bumbled a bit with his words.

Julius breathed deeply and held onto his patient expression for all that he was worth. While he did prefer his Templars shy and polite, his concern for Jowan was making him quickly lose his cool. He had other places to be and potential blood mage/best friends to find. He tilted his head, encouraging the young recruit to continue.

"Knight Commander Gregoir and First Enchanter Irving request your presence immediately."

'Double shit,' he thought, but continued smoothly "May I ask what this is regarding?"

"I believe it is regarding your harrowing; however, I cannot be certain. I apologize for the inconvenience" Cullen shifted his weight from foot to foot and looked as if he had no idea what to do with his hands. At any other time, Julius would have found it adorable.

'Double shit and rocks!' He tried to keep his expression impassive as his heart began to beat a wild staccato. Logically, he knew that his Harrowing would have been coming up soon, but he had tried not to think about it. The ritual involved with the Harrowing was shrouded in secrecy. The only thing he was certain of was that Templars came and retrieved the 'lucky' apprentice and either you returned a successfully-harrowed mage, or you were never seen again. All the senior mages he had tried to cajole secrets out of kept their silence, even Anders would not let slip any information. Julius remembered his dream and wondered briefly if unsuccessful mages were simply disposed of in the lake.

Something of this fear must have shown on his face, for Cullen began to offer encouragement "I'm sure, Apprentice Amell, that everything will go smoothly. Now, if you will just follow me, we'll go see the Knight Commander and First Enchanter and they will explain things more fully."

Julius continued to stare forward until he felt a gauntleted hand rest briefly on his shoulder. The gentle contact startled him out of his contemplation and he met Cullen's warm eyes. They were filled with compassion at the moment but Julius knew that soon the recruit would lose that warmth and that it would be replaced by suspicion and steel. He felt grief for that loss and wondered if there would ever be a time when mages and Templars could live and work together as equals. He nodded briefly in thanks for the kind words and gestured for the Templar to lead the way. He silently prayed to the Maker that Jowan could refrain from being an idiot long enough for him to survive the Harrowing and find him after. If there was an 'after.'

**OOO**

**A/N: I'm really having a fun time writing this story. That being said, I write very slowly. This will be an EVENTUAL Amell x Zevran romance, but my goal is to keep it away from fluff as much as possible (although, I'm a sap and fluff happens). I'd like to focus more on Julius' development from tower shut-in into the Warden. As a warning, there will be some very light naughty bits and some language but I'm not trying to write porn. I'll try to keep it T in content but will probably rate it M for safety. Two chapters are written and more are planned out. I will continue to post them if there seems to be an interest in the story. To be honest, I like my character and would love to see how it all works out for him; so I may continue regardless. All reviews are welcome. I edit my own stories and I'm decent at the glaringly obvious stuff but I am not a professional and would love to hear technical critiques from other writers.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_A Harrowing Experience_

The walk from the apprentice quarters to the First Enchanter's was a blur. Cullen continued to babble pleasantries and small talk; however, Julius could focus on nothing except breathing and placing one foot in front of the other. He didn't even remember arriving at Irving's office. He glanced around the room in a daze. The gray, stone walls melted into one another and the once-bold, silk prints which graced the walls were nothing more than streaks of color.

"Julius, are you quite alright?" First Enchanter Irving tilted his head trying to catch the frightened, blue eyes of the younger mage.

"Hm? Oh, yes, just peachy." Julius shook his head and blinked to clear the panic-induced fuzz. He took a steadying breath and managed to meet Irving's gaze. Hidden behind those kind eyes, he could see hints of worry and the years of built-up stress from leading the Circle. How many mages had Irving sent off to their Harrowing. How many of those had returned? Julius was moved by the concern and felt a momentary pang of guilt for all the trouble he had put the man through.

Over the years, the First Enchanter had tried his best to steer Julius away from his self-destructive behavior. Even as a child, Irving could see the promise in the young mage and had wanted to guide him down a more honorable path. To that end he had kept an eye on him, always making certain he had the best tutors and mentors available.

Julius focused further on the two men standing in front of him.

First Enchanter Irving was a bland-looking fellow full of opposites. While he looked like a frumpy old man - complete with a full head of silver hair, matching beard and laughing eyes - he exuded power out of every pore. You could, quite literally, feel the magic on your skin and taste it in the air around you. Julius had always felt like he was standing in the middle of a thunderstorm in Irving's presence. It had been no surprise to anyone in Kinloch Hold that this man had maintained the office of First Enchanter for so long.

Equally impressive, and imposing, was the tall, mountain of a man that was Knight Commander Greagoir. He had sharp eyes and a commanding voice that echoed through the halls. The sight of him in full plate, with blazing sword of mercy on his chest, could make even the most unrepentant mage snap to attention (the sole exception being Anders). Throughout his childhood, Julius had been on the receiving end of Greagoir's ire more times than he'd like to mention. And, while he would never admit it out loud, the Knight Commander had always sentenced him fairly. He had even witnessed Graegoir reprimanding his Templars for going too far with their own punishments (though abuses still happened away from the Commander's watchful eyes). Knowing this, if Julius had been a more forgiving individual, he may have tried to sympathize with the man; surely, it was a challenge to balance the needs of Templar and Mage and uphold the Chantry's many rules. Julius was not so forgiving; and, in his eyes, the Knight Commander remained the physical representation of the Chantry's tyranny.

First Enchanter Irving broke the silence. "Julius, you have been brought before us today because we feel your magic has advanced enough that we would put you through the Harrowing."

"It is also our _hope _that, once you have earned your place as a full mage, the added responsibility will curb your _enthusiasm_ for baser activities." The way in which the Knight Commander stressed the words 'hope' and 'enthusiasm' was enough to drive the point home that Greagoir was certainly aware of Julius' extra-curricular activities and expected them to stop immediately.

"Julius Amell," the First Enchanter continued, solemnly "would you submit yourself to the Harrowing?"

Julius shifted nervously, balling his hands into fists at his side to keep from wringing them. "Am I allowed to ask what the Harrowing entails?" Julius tried to keep the shaking out of his voice. He succeeded…sort-of.

"No, child, you may not. You must give us a clear answer now. Either, you submit to the Harrowing, or to the rite of Tranquility. You will not be given a second chance."

Julius felt like his heart stopped beating. He noted, with detachment, that in addition to the First Enchanter and Knight Commander, there were three Templars (Cullen included) who had taken up position by the door to the office. No escape. He felt off-kilter and dazed as he offered his answer to Irving.

"You make both choices sound simply dreamy. I guess if I _have _to choose, I'll go with option one: the Harrowing." He was trying for levity but even to his own ears the attempt fell flat.

"Excellent, we will proceed to the Harrowing Chamber, immediately."

If asked later, Julius could not have said who had responded to his words. His mind was buzzing; he had certainly not been prepared for his day to take such a crazy turn. The three Templar knights quickly flanked him and he was led out of the office by the two leaders of the Circle. How he stumbled his way up to the top of the tower, without falling flat on his face, would always remain a mystery.

It seemed that he had merely blinked when he found himself in a wide circular room; empty, save for the Templars lining the walls and the small pedestal in the center. He recognized Cullen's face among the knights and the young recruit nodded his head in encouragement.

First Enchanter Irving placed his hand on the small of Julius' back and guided him to the pedestal in the center. On the pedestal was a dish of shining, silver-blue liquid.

Irving took Julius face in his hands, forcing the mage to meet his eyes. "You must focus now, Julius. The test before you will be difficult, and you must keep your wits about you. Draw on your strengths and put aside your fear."

"Enough, Irving, mages shall receive no instruction prior to the Harrowing. You know this!" The Knight Commander was in his element. He looked down his hooked nose at the frightened mage and frowned before continuing. He pointed to the pedestal. "That, is lyrium, it will provide you access to the fade. You will travel there and be faced with tasks. Complete, the tasks and return within a set time and you will have passed your Harrowing."

Julius wanted to point out that the Commander had just given him quite a few instructions but fear, and self-preservation, kept his tongue in check. He simply nodded and walked to the pedestal, holding his hand over the small dish. He closed his eyes and focused his will, envisioning the shining bowl as a portal to be traveled through. The portal grew in his mind and the waking-world seemed to shift sideways and disappear.

When he opened his eyes he was in the strangest part of the fade he had ever witnessed. In his experience, the fade had mirrored places familiar to him; however, the landscape here was an odd sandy-brown that shimmered as if flecked with diamonds. He resisted the urge to get on his hands and knees to study it closer. He looked around, and noticed spires made of rock and crystal rising into the void above him and lining a narrow pathway. Scattered amongst the spires there seemed to be a plethora of odd statues, the most prominent being a warrior with elongated arms sharpened to deadly points. And, were those bunny ears? He did pause a moment to study that in detail.

Seeing no obvious signs or instructions, he took the trail before him and wound his way downhill. As the path leveled out, he noted a wide field off to his right, but seeing that it was empty he walked on. 'What the hell am I supposed to do here.' Julius paused to take stock of his situation. It had been made clear by the Knight Commander that a time limit had been set, but he had no idea how to measure time in the fade. 'Well, worrying about it is just going to waste what little time I have' He thought.

As far as assets, he obviously had his magic at hand, but he had no staff with which to channel his mana. While he could still attack any opponents he might come across, his spells would not be as effective without a tool for focus. Julius needed to be prepared in case he ran into any demons.

'Okay, finding a weapon should be a priority.' With that in mind, he continued forward. In short order, he came across a glowing, white wisp floating delicately above the ground at chest height. He studied it a moment; it was familiar from one the many texts he had read in the Tower's library, but he couldn't remember whether wisps were friend or foe. The wisp decided, rather abruptly, that study-time was over and a bolt of electricity streaked its way towards his face. 'Definitely not a friend,' Julius thought, as the bolt impacted against the arcane shield he had erected to protect himself. He concentrated his will on the water vapor in the air surrounding the wisp. He muttered a quick cantrip commanding the water to condense and cool. The wisp was instantly encased in a ball of ice and it dropped to the ground, shattering into hundreds of glittering pieces. 'That worked well,' he mused. Julius straightened his robes 'Alright, from now on I'm just going to assume hostiles.'

The narrow miss did wonders to clear the remaining cobwebs from his mind and the small victory helped to boost his confidence. "Let's pull it together, Julius…" he stated out loud, trying to invoke as much strength as he could in the words "…I refuse to be taken down by some stupid puffball." After a few moments of walking and several wisps later, he approached a pair of spirit wolves harassing a small, solid looking mouse. He frightened the wolves away with a carefully placed fireball and approached the shivering lump of fur. He poked it with his toe but the mouse just curled up tighter around itself. He went to poke it again, and the lump scurried backwards a few feet before shifting forms into a mage; an apprentice if the color of his robes were to be believed.

"I really wish you wouldn't do that" the mage said while his eyes darted from side to side nervously. He had a grating voice and a shifty air about him.

Julius looked the man over. The mage was shorter than he by about 4 inches - standing only around five foot and four inches (give or take). He had fuzzy brown hair, freckles and an extensive over-bite. 'A mouse either way,' Julius thought. Realizing that the mage was expecting an answer, he replied. "You wish I wouldn't do what?"

"Kick me." The mouse supplied with a glare.

"That, my good fellow, was a poke – not a kick."

"I don't see how there's much difference between the two, they're both equally uncomfortable." He whined.

"I'm not sure where you're from; but kicks, in my experience, are far more uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I can't stay to chat though; I'm on a quest…I think." Julius looked at the mouse-turned-mage thoughtfully. "You wouldn't happen to know about that, would you?"

"About the Harrowing? Oh yes, I know plenty. All bad I'm afraid." He ended with a casual shrug.

"Why do you say that?"

The mouse-mage just looked at his feet and scuffed them across the shiny dirt. "It always ends badly." He paused and looked Julius up and down. "Even were you to pass the harrowing, you would just go back out there with them. They stare at you. Judge you. You're never free."

Julius raised an eyebrow and re-evaluated his new companion. "Look, creepy-mouse-man, I appreciate what you're saying, but I'd much rather be judged out there than to die here in the fade. And, I'm pretty sure that's what will happen if I don't do this right. So, if you can help then I'd appreciate it. If you can't, please step out of the way."

"My name is mouse." He huffed.

"Good – Fitting, even. So, Mouse, are you helping or hindering."

"I will travel with you - for a time."

"Perfect." Julius turned and began walking up a steep hill. "So, Mouse, how did you come to be here?"

Mouse glanced around suspiciously as if trying to catch someone spying on them. "I was like you once - forced to come here; unprepared and afraid. I hid. I hid so long I forgot who I was. I can't leave. I don't imagine I exist anymore outside the fade." He wrung his hands and then spun about quickly. Julius jerked his head up swiftly to see what had caused the mage to startle, but saw nothing.

"Right…" As they continued to walk he thought of all kinds of questions to ask the fade denizen. If Mouse was to be believed, then he was an apprentice who had failed his Harrowing. If that was the case, perhaps he could tell him what he had done wrong so that Julius wouldn't make the same mistakes. But, wording the question 'how did you screw up?' to a fragile-minded mage was throwing him for a loop.

At the top of the hill, Julius saw what looked like a warrior-black smith toiling over an anvil. "Who, or what, is that?"

"He is a spirit. A craftsman of the fade and…he apparently makes weapons?" Mouse answered on a high note, tilting his head to the side.

Julius rolled his eyes and sighed. "That's really all you've got, Mouse?"

"Look, I've never met him before. I can't be expected to know _every_ fade spirit, can I?"

Having seen nothing else along their path, Julius hoped that perhaps the spirit would be able to guide him to his first task. "Fine, we'll do this the old-fashioned way." He took a few steps towards the spirit. "Excuse me, spirit; may I have a moment of your time?"

The fade spirit paused over its anvil. It placed the hammer in a holster on its belt and walked towards the two travelers, studying them. "Another mage" it sighed. "It really is unfair what they expect of you. No knowledge of what awaits, not even properly armed - a pity."

"Yes, I agree." Julius glanced around at the spirit's surroundings and noticed racks upon racks of weaponry. "In fact, I can't help but notice the bevy of weapons you've created for yourself. Do you think you could possibly spare one? I'm lacking a bit in that department as you've so graciously pointed out?"

"I can indeed spare one, but not for free; you'll have to prove your mettle. Come, fight me." The spirit spoke as if he was asking Julius to sit down for tea.

He looked skeptically at the heavily armed and armored spirit and then back down at himself, unsure of his ability to take on the warrior. Granted, a mage is never empty-handed in a fight; however, Julius had never had the opportunity to test his barriers in actual combat – apart from the wisp from earlier, of course.

"Do you think we could barter for it? I have a mouse? Or, perhaps I can fetch something for you…" Julius trailed off as the spirit puffed up in anger.

"I am a spirit of VALOR; I do not trade my crafts for petty trinkets or favors!"

Julius held his ground against the irritated spirit. "Oh, my pardon, I meant no offense, I'm new around here. I didn't realize I was speaking with a spirit of Valor; I understand that that is quite a respectable virtue." Julius sincerely hoped that the spirit of Valor had never met the spirit of Sarcasm, and swiftly pressed on. "If I might ask, do you think that it's valorous to attack an unarmed man?"

"Mages are never unarmed"

Damn.

The spirit moved to close on Julius. He looked around for assistance and noticed that Mouse had buggered off - asshole. Thinking quickly, he threw his hands forward in the universal sign of 'halt.'

"I am in complete agreement with you on that; however, I can't imagine this fight will be particularly satisfying for you. Wouldn't you rather face an opponent on equal grounds?"

The spirit paused and considered the mage's words. "I can find no fault in your argument. I will lend you a weapon, for our battle. If you should win, you may keep the item. If you should lose, you will die. Choose quickly, I have other tasks to perform."

Julius glanced at the myriad of weapons before him. He didn't see any staffs, but anything that would help focus his mana would be acceptable. He chose a long, sturdy spear and hoped that he would be able to wield it effectively. As he placed his hands on the spear, it inexplicably became a mage's staff. It was intricately carved with fire runes and topped with twin serpents facing each other. Where the serpents' mouths met, their fangs were holding a large, red gemstone. Julius ogled the beautiful staff for a few moments before inclining his head to the spirit of Valor. 'Game on,' Julius thought as the battle was joined.

**OOOO**

Mouse stayed hidden in the shadows watching the battle unfold. He winced as the mage parried a particularly harsh blow with his staff, before freezing the spirit and retreating to gain some room for ranged spells. He had to admit, the man was good, if lacking polish. He would even admit that the mage was clever - getting the spirit of Valor to part with one of his weapons was impressive. He would keep an eye on this one. He would make such a lovely and strong vessel.

**OOOO**

Julius was exhausted; his battle with the warrior-spirit had taken a lot out of him. It was one thing to spar with a fellow apprentice or tutor; it was quite another thing to fight for your life. Mages who died in the fade were effectively made tranquil back in the waking-world. It was good motivation. After his victory, the spirit had kept his word and allowed him to part with the staff in hand.

While waiting for Mouse, he rolled his right sleeve up to examine an ugly gash he had received from Valor's blade. He was shite at creation magic, but he did know the very basics in first aid. Anders had practically beat him over the head with a grimoire until he was able to heal minor cuts and scrapes on his own. It turns out it wasn't needed, as the wound faded before his eyes; interesting.

Soon, Mouse returned with some story about being afraid and maybe it was even true. Julius couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Mouse, but damned if he could put his finger on it. He would keep an eye on him, but for now he didn't seem like a threat and he did need to get a move-on. Visions of Templars and giant clocks chiming 'time's up' were also great motivators.

Further up the path, he found a sleeping bear. Or, what could pass for one, if the bear was turned inside out and a bit decayed around the edges. The bear yawned and shook his head as if trying to wake up. He informed Julius in a gravelly tone that he was a demon of Sloth. He hadn't known what to expect, but he had thought a demon would be more enthusiastic by the sight of two mages. However, Sloth turned his back to them and began to snore lightly.

Julius spoke loudly to Mouse over the demon's snoring. "I'm beginning to think that this path has been constructed on purpose, to lead me to various 'obstacles.' I'm also operating under the assumption that I must overcome these 'obstacles' to pass my Harrowing." Mouse just looked up at him, neither confirming nor denying. "Oy, demon! Since you're in my path, I am going to assume you're an 'obstacle' to overcome. If you could wake up now so that we could proceed that would be fantastic."

Sloth sat up and looked at Julius with bleary eyes. "If you insist."

Julius readied his staff, but the bear just waved a giant paw. "We will fight with words, clever mage."

Julius hid his relief as best he could. After his earlier physical endeavors he wasn't sure that he would last long in a stand-up fight.

"Very well, what are the rules?"

The sloth demon outlined the rules for the game. They would each take turns in answering riddles. The first one to answer three correctly would win; pretty simple. Julius did well enough, as did the demon; however, Julius was able to claim victory with a particularly vicious 'riddle' about 'if caravan A is moving in one direction and caravan B is moving in another direction…' The sloth demon never even saw it coming.

"Very well, young mage, the game is yours. What boon will you choose, I wonder?" Despite the demon's words, Sloth sounded as curious as a paving stone.

"I didn't know there were choices." Julius mused. "Hmm, let's see. Can you help me leave the fade?" The demons eyes lit up with a sudden zeal that set warning bells off in Julius' mind. He backed up a step. "Ignore that first bit; maybe you could just help me in the here and now. Is there anything that you can share that would help me with my Harrowing?"

The sloth demon settled back on its haunches and licked its forepaw thoughtfully. "Not you, but, I could help your friend. I could teach him to shift into a bear and in that form he could assist you in battle."

"Ah, that's really the best you could do? I was hoping for more along the lines of instructions on what to do next" Julius cringed.

"Fine, forget the fact that it could help _me_" Mouse sighed. "Everyone else overlooks me. You may as well overlook me too. Left alone to drift through the fade; hiding in shadows; praying that one day it will all end and I can go home."

He ignored Mouse's self-pitying tirade and thought about the demon's offer. It made sense. If the demon was only able to pass on shape-shifting abilities, then it would be of no use to Julius as he had no prior experience with that particular skill. At a young age all mages are introduced to the four schools of magic: primal, creation, entropy and spirit. They are then tested to determine which branches suit their talents. For example, It was determined that Julius was particularly affective at blowing shit up and thus his focus tended to be on the more aggressive spells. His particular specialty was destructive spells in the primal school - like fire, ice and lightning. He was also fairly good at defensive spells in the spirit school, such as mind blast and force fields. And, of course, everyone was taught the basics of arcane shield spells and staff-focus powers. It was actually Jowan that had convinced him to learn the defensive spells in the first place. His argument was that a battle-mage with no shielding would be an excellent pin-cushion for the enemies' arrows. It was sound logic.

Thinking of Jowan made his heart hurt, but Julius pushed it aside and lifted his head. He took a deep breath to center himself. "Right, I'm sure that's a terrible burden for you. So, that in mind, would you like to be a bear?"

Mouse glared at Julius for a second or two, but agreed that it would be in everyone's best interest to learn how to shift into bear form.

After everything was said and done, Julius took stock of the situation and realized that the path had dead-ended at the sloth demon. He stared at the empty void behind the demon as if it would suddenly reveal his next steps. He briefly considered throwing a fireball at it to make himself feel better, but settled for giving it the dirtiest look he could muster.

"Perhaps we should head back towards the beginning?" suggested Mouse.

Julius agreed, wordlessly, and turned back down the path. Valor had returned to his anvil and was banging away at his next creation; he waved in greeting as they passed. Other than the spirit they saw no one on their return journey. As they neared the empty clearing, he paused at the entrance. He still didn't see anything within, but he hadn't thoroughly explored it yet. As he entered, Julius immediately felt a heavy, oppressive aura. He heard laughing, eerily similar to the laughing in his dream. He paused and shook his head; it felt like that dream had happened a lifetime ago, when in fact it was only this morning.

Julius heard a loud crack, and whirled around to face a glowing, red rage demon which had sprouted from the ground a few feet behind him. Flames licked off its body and Julius could feel the heat from where he was standing. The demon then introduced himself as the 'Master' of this realm and acknowledged Mouse as his 'follower.' The 'Master' explained further that he and Mouse had an arrangement that he would share in his 'meals,' on the condition that Mouse would bring unsuspecting mages (read dinner) to his lair. The rage demon ordered Mouse to assist him in his attack but, surprisingly, Mouse declined. He shifted into his bear form and moved to intercept the demon. Not one to look a gift-bear in the mouth, Julius retreated to a safe distance and attacked the demon with ice spells at range. Between the two, the rage demon fell quickly.

"That…was too easy" Julius stated – brows furrowed in confusion. He looked around waiting for the other shoe to drop. After a moment of tense silence, Julius confronted the smaller mage on his deal with the rage demon. Mouse confessed that he had been trapped in the fade ever since his own disastrous Harrowing. He had been there so long, in fact, that his body outside of the fade had perished and he was trapped within. "I was desperate! I had to survive in this Maker-forsaken place until I could find someone strong enough to help me escape! You're strong; you could do this for me!" He pleaded.

Julius stared at the man. He could understand doing what it takes to survive, up to a certain point. "What would this 'assistance' entail, exactly?"

Mouse raised an eyebrow and continued in a hurried voice. "You will allow me to merge with your spirit, and then when you travel back across to the waking world, I'll be free."

"Um, not that you haven't been a lovely traveling companion throughout this whole ordeal…" He replied "…but, I'm having issues with the word 'merge' and how exactly that makes you free."

Mouse said nothing and just stared at the mage, his once hopeful expression turning darker as each second passed.

Julius raised an eyebrow and shifted his weight back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Right, I think this is the part where I say 'no' and back away slowly."

"Is that your final answer, Mage?" Mouse's voice had sharpened to a deadly edge. Shadows seemed to pulse around him.

"Yes, that is most definitely my final answer." Julius stared open mouthed as the man's complexion began to turn a grayish-purple color. He jumped back and readied his staff as the transformation continued - Mouse's stature rapidly increasing in height and musculature. Sharp, armored spikes formed a defensive carapace and giant fangs crowded his mouth. Julius edged back as the monstrous demon loomed over him.

"Fine, have it your way. But, know this. One day when all hope has been lost and you find yourself in great need, I will return to you, clever mage. And you will regret not aiding me." The former mouse sneered and dissolved into the background of the fade. Julius stood rooted to the spot; confusion and fear warring for dominance in his mind. What the hell was that about?

Suddenly, the world tilted sideways and then faded to black. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, and found himself lying sprawled on the stone floor of the harrowing chamber. First Enchanter Irving and Knight Commander Greagoir were standing over him.

"Welcome back, Mage Amell." Irving smiled. He offered his hand to Julius. "Congratulations, on a successful Harrowing."

As Julius was pulled swaying to his feet, Knight Commander Greagoir called Cullen and another recruit over to the center of the chamber. "Escort Mage Amell, to his bed in the apprentice quarters; once he is settled please speak with Owain and have him prepare a room in the senior mages quarters." Greagoir shifted his attention back to the mage in question. "You can move into your new room once you have sufficiently recovered."

Irving passed the unsteady mage off to his Templar escorts. "Remember Julius; do not speak of the ritual to anyone. For now, get some rest and come see me in the morning. We have much to discuss of your new responsibilities"

Julius tried his best to respond to Irving, but the room was spinning and he had never felt so exhausted in his entire life. He took two steps and then bent over, promptly vomiting all over Cullen's shiny boots. His last coherent thought was that he'd just lost any chance at seducing the fair-haired recruit and that at least he could keep his promise to Anders in that regard.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Okay, boring chapter was boring. Reading back through Chapter 2, I realized how much "and then they went here" was in that. Sorry; like I said at the beginning 'new writer.' I'm trying to find my balance between writing my characters and then writing the environment in a way that doesn't sound super-stilted and uninteresting. Please bear with me and I hope that Chapter 3 is more to your liking! And thanks if you're still reading this!**

Chapter 3

_The Trouble with Blood Mages_

Julius groaned as he mashed his face further into his pillow, trying desperately to shut out the offensive light and chattering sounds of the apprentice's hall. His head was throbbing in time with his pulse and his thoughts were muzzled. Maker; it felt just like the night he'd spent drinking the entirety of Greagoir's special reserves. Anders and Jowan had been right there beside him – of course; hidden away in a dark corner of the tower's expansive pantry, tipping back the bottles and laughing until tears streamed down their faces. It had felt like such an awesome idea at the time – strike at 'authority' and have a blast in one go. The three of them together had felt invincible, so proud of their little 'rebellion.' When Cook had found them all passed out the next morning, pale and moaning and wanting to die, they'd tried to convince her that they'd only went to get a midnight snack and had been 'done-in' by some spoilt meat. Predictably, the excuse was ill-received; perhaps the half dozen or so empty and shattered wine bottles they'd used for target practice had given them away? Julius smiled to himself remembering a particularly impressive throw where he'd managed to arch his lightning spell between three separate bottles. He'd only scorched Anders a little, and they'd been so drunk they thought it was hilarious. It had not been hilarious when they found themselves scrubbing every latrine in Kinloch Hold from dawn till dusk as punishment; no mercy shown for weak stomachs or pounding heads. But, it had been worth every miserable moment to see the Knight Commander's face when he'd realized that it was HIS stockpile of 50 year old Orlesian Red that was gone in a single night.

The bed shifted and a throat cleared. He groaned again and prayed that whoever the hell was sitting beside him would get the hint and piss off already. His temper was frayed from the emotional and physical beating he'd taken in the fade. He pulled an arm free of his blanket and blindly shoved at the body sitting on the edge of his bed.

"I'm not going to go away."

Recognition flared and Julius shot up like a bolt. Jowen's voice had conjured a flood of memories from the previous morning. The foremost of which was Anders' warning of unsettled rumors involving their friend and certain 'forbidden magics.' Pain bloomed behind his eyes and multi-colored spots danced an unfamiliar jig with the sudden change in position.

"Andraste's fluffy kittens! Oh, that hurts." He trailed off as he dropped back to the bed, curling into a little ball of misery. Maybe tranquility would've been preferable to this, he thought with a sniff. A manly sniff, mind you; he wasn't about to cry…not at all.

By the grace of the Maker, Jowen held his tongue and edged closer to place a cool hand on Julius' brow. He held it there a moment, allowing the chill to seep in before rubbing gentle circles into the suffering mages temple. "Mmm that feels nice." Julius relaxed at the contact and tried his best not to sound as pathetic as he felt, but as the pain continued he gave up the ghost of pretense. "A little healing spell wouldn't go amiss, you know." He begged – he would've pleaded on his knees if he had the ability to move.

As he waited impatiently for his friend to get his ass in gear and cast the spell, he reflected on their time together. The two mages were the same age, but Jowan had been a resident of the tower for several years prior to Julius' own arrival. They had bonded quickly, and Jowan had taken the young mage under his wing - shown him how to survive those first years. The best hiding spots, how to outrun angry Templars, and (when the running failed) the words best used in apologies. He had also been Julius' first lover, although they'd quickly discovered they were better off as friends than intimates. Their personalities clashed more often than not, and while opposites can attract someone to your bed, they can't always keep them there. Jowan was subtle where Julius was brash, affectionate where he was cold, and more gullible than a virgin. But, despite it all, they'd been there for each other through thick and thin, and it was this that allowed Julius to take down the walls – ask for healing when he would've just suffered in silence for anyone else.

After a moment's hesitation, Jowan complied with his request. He tried to relax into the spell; however, as the tendrils of magic trickled deeper into his skin, he stiffened. It was an oddly uncomfortable and grating sensation. Granted, he wasn't in _any _shape to make accurate assessments of one's magic, but something was most definitely off with Jowan's.

To Julius, everyone's magic had a certain flair - something that was uniquely _them_. Irving's magic felt like a summer storm – warmth and danger in equal measure; Anders was the cool breeze coming off the lake; and Jowan had always reminded him of the homey feeling you get when you sit down with a good book in front of the fire. That familiar feeling was still there, it was just…diminished, like someone had banked the flames and maybe instead of a book it was a dissertation on the magical properties of cheese instead of a steamy romance. Ugh, that made no sense. Thoughts bad. Magic Good. Please Maker, make this pain stop.

After what felt like a century, the throbbing tension eased and he was able to uncurl. Jowan canceled the spell and pushed back some wayward strands of hair before straightening up and looking away, not meeting his eyes. He studied his friend, noting that his raven hair (a trait that Jowan took such pride in) was unkempt and oily. Dark circles ringed his red, puffy eyes and he had a desperate, hungry look about him. Truth be told, the man looked like shit. Julius raised himself so that he was seated cross legged on the bed. He gently tugged at Jowan's chin so they were facing each other and passed his thumb across the mages cheekbone.

"Hey, what's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's nothing. Well, it's something! But, I can't speak of it now. I…well, I have a favor to ask and I'm not sure that you'll say yes. It's kind of a big thing and…" Jowan trailed off as Julius placed a hand on his friend's knee, squeezing gently in an effort to comfort the anxious man and slow the deluge of words.

"Jowan, slow down; I'm here for you. You know that I would move the moon and the stars, if you asked it. Now, breathe before you pass out on top of me and people start to talk." His lips curved up into a crooked smile and he winked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. When Jowan made no move to continue, He looked around, checking that no apprentices were in ear-shot. The apprentice hall was deserted but he lowered his voice to barely a whisper, preferring to err on the side of caution. "Anders asked me to speak with you. He said that he'd heard…"

Jowan's eyes widened with shock that turned quickly to accusation as he met Julius' gaze. "Not you too? You would believe me capable of such…" He rose to his feet and began pacing like a caged bear, hissing quietly. "Those accusations are false! I would never consort with...you know…and honestly, have I _ever _given you reason to think I would do…that?"

Jowan's words should have been a comfort, but as he watched the mage fuss and pace he thought about how quickly the man had leapt to defend himself. And his magic, hadn't it felt a bit _off_ earlier? He couldn't bring himself to believe the rumors that Jowan would purposefully dabble in blood magic, but to be truthful, the mage wasn't known for his good judgment. If he had done something without thought for the consequences or maybe a spell that had some unintentional side effects…no, Jowan was right; in all the years they had known each other, he had never given him reason to think he would do something so insane.

"Alright, steady on, I believe you." Julius raised his hands in surrender. "Obviously, you're aware of the rumors and how serious this all is though, yes? Shouldn't we – I don't know – clear this up? Take it to Irving and…"

"No, it's out of the question"

"What? Why? Jowan, this isn't some bloody joke - no pun intended. This could be your life on the line!" Julius needed his friend to see how deadly serious this could be. If the rumors continued and anything unfortunate happened, accident or no, the Knight Commander and First Enchanter would have to step in and Jowan would be the top suspect. Death or Tranquility was the only options for dealing with maleficars – practicing blood mages.

"No…we can't go to the First Enchanter" Jowan began more calmly. "I…there's reasons, for the rumors. It's not what everyone thinks" he continued quickly "but, it's just as serious. I can't...You're the only one I trust…"

A couple of apprentices wandered into the room, chattering away about Senior Enchanter so-and-so's latest lecture and the possible applications of frost spells on some poor sod's small clothes. It would have been humorous were it not for the unfortunate timing. Jowan straightened his robes and raised his voice so that it carried over to the young mages. "As I said, I just came by to see that you were well and to inform you the First Enchanter would like you to see him as soon as you were able. Come find me when you're finished." He added softly. With that Jowan took his leave, his blue robes swirling about him as he hurried out of the hall. 'For the sake of all that's holy in this world, let this turn out alright' Julius thought as he began to dress for his meeting with Irving.

**OOOO**

The walk to the First Enchanter's office was much more peaceful this go-round. Julius was able to relax now that his Harrowing was over and the worst was behind him. He just needed to focus on clearing Jowan's name and then getting the hell out of the Tower! He had some thoughts on how to go about the tower part, at least. Mages who had passed their Harrowing and shown loyalty to the circle were sometimes granted travel papers so that they could leave the grounds and conduct research in the 'real' world. He didn't have such a great track record with the loyalty part, but he'd never run away, and considering the company he kept that should count for something. Some Senior Enchanters, like Ines (a famous botanist within the circle community) would be seeking assistants in the spring for gathering herbs and whatnot. He wasn't a strong herbalist, but he liked the idea of it. He'd enjoyed the required time he'd spent in the Tower's nursery, learning to tend the various elf roots and medicinal plants. He found that cultivating his assigned herbs had been a good counterbalance to practicing with his more aggressive magic. And, on a practical note, if he couldn't heal someone magically (and to be honest, creation magic _completely_ escaped his grasp), it may be best to understand how to do so through potions instead. On a selfish note, the Kinloch Hold Circle had a monopoly on the distribution of herbs and potions to the various apothecaries and physicians throughout Ferelden. Mastery in the skill was _extremely_lucrative and Anders had even admitted to funding his many escape attempts by selling or trading his potions while on the road. Escape plans aside, herbalists like Enchanter Ines were allowed to leave the tower for years at a time while they explored for new herbs or gathered samples to be used in potions or sold direct to vendors – it's how the Tower supported itself financially. The most appealing thing about volunteering for Ines, or one of the other Enchanters, was that they were not required to have Templar escorts. They simply stopped to check in with the tower every once and awhile. He certainly wouldn't complain about hauling carts, digging in the dirt, or bat-shit old ladies if he could do so free of Templars.

As he neared the door to Irving's office, feeling pretty positive about life, he could hear the raised voices of the Knight Commander and First Enchanter. He could only catch snatches of the lively conversation, but the gist of it seemed to be centered around the war to the south and the Templar's commitment (or lack-there-of) to send more mages to the fight. A third voice was attempting to mediate the discussion, to no avail, when...

"AHEM!" One of the Templars patrolling the hall cleared his throat and looked pointedly at the mage as he skulked in front of the closed door, ear to the wood. Looking appropriately shamed, Julius straightened and nodded an apology before knocking to announce his presence.

He entered and noted the stranger whose voice he had heard earlier. The man was clad in a combination of white robes and shining silverite armor, but was decidedly neither a mage nor a Templar. His dark hair was pulled back from his face and his scruffy beard was roguishly offset by the golden earring adorning his left ear; kind-of a mix between a pirate and a knight, to be honest. 'I bet he has some interesting stories to tell,' Julius thought as he his eyes lit up with a sudden zeal. Oh, the gossip he could share with Jowan and Anders!

"Enough, I will not entertain fool-notions about committing more of the circle's talent to the King's army. You have no evidence that shows this is a true blight. Unless you can provide me with proof, I  
will not allow…"

"You, Greagoir, do not have absolute authority over this circle and can no more deny Duncan his request than I can fulfill it. We will both think on this tonight and return here tomorrow. By the Maker's grace we will have come to a mutual agreement."

The Knight Commander looked as if he would say more, but noticing the new addition closed his mouth on the subject. "…very well, Irving, we will meet again in the morning. I have important matters to attend to in any case." He stalked out of the office, his armor clanking and groaning loudly with his haste; a not-so-subtle, disapproving look on his face for the newly appointed mage.

"It is regrettable that you had to see that, Julius. I had hoped to have been done with the discussion prior to your arrival." Irving looked embarrassed to have been caught in such an openly confrontational argument. He was usually much more subtle in his dealings with his Templar counterpart. It was important for morale to appear as though the two leaders were in sync.

"It's not a bother, First Enchanter, it's fun to see the Knight Commander set back on his heels for once." He grinned devilishly and threw a wink towards the stranger, earning a poorly-concealed smirk in return.

Irving chose to ignore the insolence of the comment and introduced his guest. "This is Duncan, a Gray Warden, come to the circle at the request of the King. We were just discussing the skirmishes with  
the darkspawn in the south." Duncan seemed to bristle at Irving's casual tone, but otherwise said nothing.

"Well met, Duncan. If you need assistance finding your way around the tower, please let me know. I'd love the opportunity to speak with a Gray Warden." Julius inclined his head politely, and if he batted his eyelashes a little bit, Irving certainly wasn't the wiser for it. He shifted his attention back to the First Enchanter. "Jowan said that you wished to speak with me?"

"Yes, of course. " Irving began kindly "I just wanted to congratulate you on your successful harrowing and present you with your mage's robe and staff. These items distinguish you as a full mage of the circle." Here the kindness turned serious, his eyes bore into Julius "But, please know that with privilege comes responsibility. In short order, you will be assigned as a mentor to one of the younger mages, and it is my hope that as you embrace this role, you will come to understand just how much we mages invest into our apprentices and our home here in this tower. You must accept that rules exist for a reason to protect you and your fellows from harm, _within_ and without." Irving paused to stare meaningfully at Julius, almost as if he were waiting for the young mage to confess some sin. Did he know about Jowan? Or was this just some obtuse warning that he should start acting like an adult? Julius returned the stare evenly; masking his irritation with what he hoped resembled patience and goodwill. The man had been kind to him over the years, and he acknowledged freely that Irving had protected his hide from the more violent backlashes some of his pranks had inspired. But, for the sake of the Black City, protecting mages from Templars was the man's job. Any First Enchanter worth his salt would do the same. He had never asked the man to look out for him and he had certainly never asked the man to care for him, he thought bitterly. He owed this man and this tower nothing; his loyalty lay with friends and self. As his determination solidified, Julius pushed his shoulders back and held his head high. Irving would NOT make him feel guilty. Come hell or high water, he would help Jowan with whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into. Then, he would curtsey and cover his ass and hopefully at the end of it all Jowan would be safe and he would find a path leading him from this prison.

The moment passed and Irving was the first to turn away. He looked sad and more care-worn than Julius had ever seen. When he spoke again, his voice was as even-keel as it always was. "If you would, please escort Duncan to his room. He is lodging in the east wing of the senior mages quarters."

"Yes, First Enchanter." Julius' earlier confidence waned. When had Irving begun to look so old? "If you'll follow me I'll show you to your room." The last bit was directed to the Gray Warden who was watching their exchange with intrigue.

**OOOO**

"How long have you lived in the circle?" Julius tensed at the loaded question. How someone came to be in the tower was a subject avoided by most residents. The inquiry often stirred powerful memories which were largely painful. Not for the first time, he wondered how the Tower hadn't exploded in a fireball of repressed emotions. He grinned like a school boy at the imagery the errant thought provided.

"I was brought to Kinloch Hold when I was five years old, I am 25 at present." His tone was mild and friendly, there was no profit in offending the man. Every child in Ferelden grew up hearing stories of the fabled Gray Wardens riding off into battle on the backs of silver-winged griffins. Their griffins may be gone now, but they were still formidable warriors deserving respect. And, wasn't it true that the Gray Wardens would be seeking recruits now that the darkspawn were threatening? The idea had merit.

"It must have been tough to adjust to a new life here." The warden's face was kind, but his eyes were shrewd.

"Indeed." Julius said no more and hoped that the warden would get the hint; he didn't like the look the warden was giving him and was eager to change topics.

Duncan followed the mage at a respectful distance, sizing him up as they walked. Irving had praised his sparring and spell-work, noting that Julius had been an attentive student in courses (for the most part). He had also been quick to mention that the man was willful - obstinate was the exact word he'd used. As Warden Commander of Ferelden he was used to a wide manner of personalities and had dealt with his share of 'obstinate' individuals. The sad truth was that the wardens turned no recruits aside and relied on the joining to weed out anyone who was unworthy. If the mage was as talented as he was led to believe, he could be a valuable asset to the order.

"Your room, Ser." Julius opened the door and waved Duncan to precede him through the entrance. Duncan glanced around the small but comfortable-looking apartment. He settled into a plush chair with a sigh, gesturing to a similar chair across from him. It had been a long road from Ostagar and he was grateful to rest his bones.

"Thank you, Julius. You said earlier that you had questions about the Gray Wardens?"

Julius fidgeted glancing quickly between the Duncan and the door. He had reservations about joining the man – he really needed to get back to Jowan – but when else would he get the opportunity to chat up a warden? He inclined his head, accepting the invitation and settled himself into the offered seat. Laying his elbows casually upon the rests he leaned back and crossed his legs, fingers lightly drumming on the end of the chair's arms. "Yes, I was curious about the order. I've heard the legends, but I would like to know how the reality stacks up?"

Duncan chuckled, the mage certainly got to the point. "It's certainly not as glamorous as the tales would have you believe. During blights of course, we fight the darkspawn. In between blights we focus on training and preparation. Wardens give up a traditional family life to serve the greater good. It's not always pleasant but it is rewarding in its own way."

"And what exactly is a blight? I know that it involves darkspawn, but not much else, I'm afraid."

"Blights are massive darkspawn incursions led by an Archdemon - old gods corrupted by the taint. They are cunning and capable of maneuvering the darkspawn in war as well as any general. This is what makes a blight so deadly."

Julius maintained a respectful silence as he listened to Duncan's words. The warden's face was grim as he went on to describe the horrors of warring with darkspawn and he shuddered at the descriptions of tainted lands and corrupted men.

"And you think that what is happening in the south is a true blight?"

"Yes, we have little evidence to show for it; but, wardens have ways of knowing that surpass physical proof."

Julius weighed his next words carefully; his desired freedom would mean little if the blight spread out of control, but did he really want to offer his services to such a forbidding order? His mind zoomed in on an image of himself in warden robes fighting darkspawn and rescuing handsome farmers in distress. Said farmer would then swoon in his arms and of course they'd be more than willing to show their gratitude. 'Yeah…this certainly has the potential to be a hell of a lot more rewarding than gathering herbs' he thought. But, what if the man planned to leave before he was able to assist Jowan with his problems? Perhaps, if he would consent to take Jowan as a second recruit it would kill two birds with one fireball?

And your order welcomes mages?"

"Mages make valuable allies. The darkspawn have their own spell casters and to have gray wardens capable of fighting them on equal terms is a boon. Do these questions have a purpose, or are you merely curious?"

That shrewd, examining look was back in the warden's eyes and Julius knew without a doubt that he would know a lie the moment it left his mouth. Deciding honest was the best policy, he answered truthfully. "I have an interest to be out of these stone walls, but I have no desire to trade one prison for another. How are mages treated within the order?"

"The Gray Wardens are a brotherhood, everyone is equal." Duncan replied simply.

Julius nodded and considered further. If that was the truth, then it was the best option he'd come across to get out of the tower. "I won't lie; the opportunity to be free of Templar scrutiny and to travel beyond the tower grounds is…appealing." He smiled and continued with more gusto. "Just point me in the right direction and I'll gladly hurl fireballs for my keep."

The warden held his gaze. He needed mages and Julius seemed strong. It would be nice if the mage had more altruistic reasons to fight but it was a willing body and he wasn't picky. "I'll speak with the First Enchanter in the morning; perhaps if he will not send more mages to fight at the king's side, he will at least allow one mage to be recruited for the order."

"I could ask around to other mages who may show an interest? If more were to be permitted to join us…?" Julius asked as innocently as he could.

Duncan cocked an eyebrow at the young mage, seeing through the ruse. "I suppose you have a friend in mind who shares your opinion of the tower? Remember, it is a dangerous and demanding thing to join the gray wardens. Recruits must be able to carry their own weight in a fight; they cannot be a burden to their fellow wardens. Can you honestly say that this friend would be capable of such?"

Julius' spirits fell. He re-evaluated Jowan's abilities with a fair mind and sighed, dropping his eyes and answering truthfully. "No, he would not…" Feeling the weight of his confession, Julius stood and exited the room, setting off in search for his friend. Hopefully whatever Jowan's problem was, it wouldn't require an exit strategy.

**OOOO**

Julius found his friend in the Temple standing in a little-used corner next to a Chantry initiate – a sister who had not yet taken her vows as a priest. At first glance one might think that they were lighting candles and praying together – until one realized it was Jowan and the idea became laughable. The mage had made no secrets of what he thought of the Maker and the Chantry over the years. Julius approached the two as casually (and cautiously) as he could; he did not want to draw attention to a scene that was already suspicious.

"Jowan, there you are. Come, to confess your many dirty deeds? And to such a pretty initiate? You, my friend, are much more of a scoundrel than I thought." He leered suggestively at the poor girl, attempting to scare her away so the two mages could talk privately.

Jowan just shook his head. "Lily, ignore him. And you, Is it too much to ask that you could be serious right now?"

"Probably." The girl giggled at Julius' response, covering her mouth shyly with the back of her hand.

"Bah, you're impossible." Jowan straightened his robes and coughed to focus their attention back to him. "Julius this is Lily; Lily, Julius." He rushed on ahead "Lily and I…are….together."

The moment the words were out of Jowan's mouth, Julius' dropped open and his brain stopped its higher functions (well, other than warning bells and the sentence 'bad f*ing idea, mate!' in bold, flashing colors).

"Ah, I see…my apologies to you Lily for having to deal with such an imbecilic…moronic…" He trailed off and began again. "Jowan, I can't even form words right now. What the hell do you think you're doing?" Julius hissed as quietly as he was capable. "She is an initiate! It's illegal! Is THIS what you want me to help you with!" He moved to pace but immediately stopped himself, realizing that they were in public. He struggled to control his rising anger. What the hell was Jowan thinking? Sneaking around with an initiate while there were rumors of blood magic swirling through the tower – did the man want to die on the hangman's noose?

"Listen, Julius, I LOVE her. She understands me and she wants to have a life with me. A life apart from the Circle with babies and maybe a farm…I DON'T KNOW! But, the point is we want to start a life together and you're the only one who I trust to help us get there." Jowan paused and took a breath, placing both hands on his friend's shoulders – forcing him to meet his eyes. "Please, help me. If you're truly my friend, help me."

"Jowan, listen I can appreciate that this woman is…attractive" he tried not to make the words sound like an insult to his friend's love "…but, what if she's a spy, an enemy sent to tempt you? They do that you know…try to catch you out so they have any excuse to make you tranquil or…"

"They don't need an excuse, it was already decided."

"What! What have you heard? Why? How do you know this?" Julius chest was pounding as he frantically searched his memory, trying to remember anything that could have led the First Enchanter to make such a decision.

"It's true; I saw the documents on the First Enchanter's desk this morning. It was signed by both Irving and Knight Commander Greagoir. I will not see the man I love become a ghost, a shell – you have to help us." Lily's eyes quickly filled with tears as she clutched at Jowan's sleeve.

"Alright, alright…everyone calm down." Julius commanded softly as he glanced around the Temple. Thankfully, the place was deserted this time of day. "Both of you tell me what you know."

Jowan began the tale of how Lily and He met and fell in love; Lily adding all the flowery, girly stuff about Jowan's attempts at wooing her.

"Right, that's fantastic and all; but, how did blood magic and tranquility become involved?"

"I guess someone noticed all the sneaking around I was doing to meet Lily and assumed the worst. There's nothing true behind those rumors, but once they start they're like wildfire. I guess after hearing them enough times, the First Enchanter decided to take the next step. You know he's always hated me!"

Julius' eyes narrowed and he looked - really looked - at his friend. Jowan was a nervous wreck, wringing his hands and shifting back and forth. He didn't think he was lying about his relationship with Lily, but he certainly wasn't telling him the whole truth about the blood mage rumors. However, seeing the desperation in the other man's eyes and the looks of love the couple shared, he couldn't say no. He couldn't let his friend become tranquil, no matter how much he disagreed with the situation. Plus, if all goes well he'd be out the door in the morning, anyway. So…one more adventure in the tower never hurt, right?

**OOOO**

Right; and that thought was what brought him to this moment. Face to face with a VERY angry Anders in a secluded row in the tower's library. "Let me just wrap my head around this whole situation. Jowan is not a blood mage, but is in love with an initiate. He was slated to undergo the rite of Tranquility, but instead of telling the truth and clearing his name, he'd rather just destroy his phylactery and make a run for it? To do this, you have a plan but it involves breaking into the vaults and you need some magical implement that will get you through the doors."

"Precisely!" Julius chirped with a smile. "Easy, right?...right?" He nudged the grumbling mage with his elbow, trying to cajole a smile out of his elder.

Anders just stared at his friend as if he had three heads sprouting from his neck.

"I mean, you have tons of experience with this sort of thing. You have to know what we could use and where we could find it, yes?"

"You do realize my attempts have all ended in failure so far, right?"

"Yes, but this time I'm involved. What could possibly go wrong?"

"Oh, I don't know…you could be caught by the Templars with a suspected blood mage, and a runaway initiate. I'm sure they'll understand." Anders scowled, his golden eyes fierce.

"Look, would you really see Jowan made tranquil because it might be difficult or we might be caught?" He pleaded for understanding from the irate mage.

Anders sighed and kicked at the bottom of a shelf. "No, I wouldn't. I'm just worried about you being dragged into all this." He thought in silence for a few minutes, rubbing his hand across the scruff on his chin.

"Alright, I think I can swing getting you a rod of fire from the stockroom. Enchanter Nadia owes me a favor, but that's the best I can do; they don't trust me with anything more powerful. That _should_ burn through pretty much anything you come across."

"Thanks, Anders! You are an amazing man, have I ever told you that?" Julius leaned in towards the taller mage, running his hand up the man's arm suggestively. Anders growled and grabbed the offending limb, pulling Julius into a tight hug.

"I know I've already told you this, but please be careful. Losing you both is bearable only if you're free and unharmed."

Julius cringed, the comment was a knife to his heart; if all went as planned both Jowan and he would be leaving the tower - Jowan as a runaway and he as a gray warden. He hadn't fully considered that Anders would be left alone. "Perhaps I could mention you to Duncan? You're a strong mage, he should be lucky to have you."

"No, I have no desire to give my life to an order whose sole purpose is to fight and die a grisly death. I'd rather escape on my own. Maybe when we're all out of here we can meet up again." Anders planted a quick kiss on Julius' head and strode away. "Meet me outside of the stock room in an hour; I'll have what you need." He called softly over his shoulder.

**OOOO**

BAM, BAM! The sound echoed through the empty corridor as a stubborn boot met an equally stubborn door again and again. "MAKER DAMN THIS DOOR TO THE BLACK CITY AND BACK!" Julius shouted as he continued to kick the door with increasing violence. He was angry and confused by his inability to use the rod of fire and the door was the safest target to vent his frustrations on.

"Are you sure you're holding it right?" Julius foot stilled mid-kick, sinking slowly to the floor. His shoulders were rigid as he glared with murderous intent at his 'friend.' Jowan held up his hands in surrender and retreated several steps. He took two slow, deep breaths before he replied.

"There's a pointy end and a handle, Jowan. How the hell could I possibly be holding it wrong?" Julius' voice was eerily calm despite the harsh words.

"Um, perhaps there's nothing wrong with the rod." Lily's voice was quiet as she pointed out the obvious to the two mages. "Maybe the door is warded against magic? Can you call upon any spells here?"

Julius stared first at the initiate then at Jowan. He inclined his head, "you first, my friend."

Jowan huffed at the mage's poorly-veiled hostility. "You're a real ass when you're angry, you know that?" he shook his head to clear his irritation and squinted, raising his hand as he attempted conjure a simple wisp of light. "Nothing." Jowan exclaimed, confusion evident on his face.

Julius nodded and closed his own eyes, attempting to concentrate on his mana and the cantrip necessary for a similar wisp. He felt as if he was right on the verge of success, but at the last moment his thoughts would slip, causing the spell to cancel itself.

"You're right, I got nothing as well."

He looked further down the corridor and considered their situation, there was a second door flanked by two suits of armor. The rooms of the Tower's lower dungeon should be laid out in a predictable grid. If they were anything like the pantry and cellars above, they should be able to follow the rooms in a square pattern and make their way around to the back of the warded room.

"Well, let's see what's behind door number two, shall we?"

As the trio approached the door, the suits of armor quivered, making a jingling sound as the chainmail clinked against the heavier plate. They paused and looked at each other, worry and curiosity warring for dominance in their expressions. Julius shrugged at the couple and took a few steps closer. Suddenly, a glowing, white fog consumed the statues. When the brightness dimmed, they barely had time to register the attack – the suits of armor were running toward the startled companions, swords unsheathed and aiming for their heads. Thought-fast, Julius threw out his hand and a blast of telekinetic energy cascaded towards the knights, sweeping them from their feet. While they struggled to right themselves, Jowan moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Julius, pushing Lily behind them. The two mages worked in tangent; Julius froze their opponents while Jowan conjured a giant rock fist that crushed them into large chunks of ice and metal. Once they were sure the knights weren't going to pull themselves back together, the three walked forward slowly and examined their 'kills.' Lily pushed between the two mages impatiently and began sorting through the pieces of armor, coming back up with a mace and a small round shield. She knocked the mace against the shield, testing for soundness. She grinned and winked at the two men.

"You didn't think I was going to let you boys do all the work, did ya?" She giggled and turned towards the door, hips swaying invitingly. Julius laughed and punched Jowan in the arm as he hurried to join Lily. "I think you got a keeper, there" he called over his shoulder. Jowan just shook his head and silently followed, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Several rooms and countless fights later, the trio was panting heavily and looking at the next door with dread. They were alive, thank the Maker, and for the most part uninjured, but Julius could tell that Jowan was close to dropping from exhaustion. He was strongest as a support mage, buffing the other two and healing wounds, but with only Lily on the front lines, Jowan had had to resort to more aggressive attack spells which drained additional mana. Julius was better off since he had been training as a battle mage from the beginning of his apprenticeship; however, the sheer number of opponents left him almost shaking with fatigue. Lily wasn't faring any better, she had complained of bruising and numbness in her shield arm and was currently leaning and resting her head against the cool, stone wall. They were close to their goal, however. This last room should be directly behind the phylactery chamber, but if his hunch was wrong and it was another hallway, he didn't know if they would make it through another round of fighting.

They rested for several moments more before Julius signaled his readiness. He moved forward and grasped the handle of the heavy iron door, pulling it open swiftly and bracing for a fight that never came. He waited several more moments before stepping cautiously over the threshold. They were in a large repository for what appeared to be the most insane collection of magical junk that he'd ever witnessed. They saw staffs of all shapes and sizes; floor to ceiling shelves full of clear vials filled with potions, every color of the rainbow; and an assortment of statues ranging from the grotesque to the beautiful. Lily moved off to the left trailing her hand over a pile of musty old scrolls, stopping to poke amongst a chest full of amulets while Jowan and Julius went to select staffs for themselves. Julius nearly crowed with delight as he claimed a staff decorated with twin serpents and enchanted with fire runes, similar to the one he had used in his harrowing. Jowan selected a branch-like staff decorated simply with a beaded, leather cord. Weapons in hand, they went to join Lily. She passed out the amulets she had found for each of them; she explained that the inscribed runes should bolster their endurance.

Julius chuckled and elbowed Jowan in the ribs. "I believe the lady is dissatisfied with your stamina, my friend." The two flushed bright red, turning his childish giggles into full-blown laughter. He leaned against the bookshelf at his back clutching his stomach, unable to stop. The rotten wood suddenly gave way and he fell hard amid the broken pieces. He cursed creatively as his two companions doubled over, sniggering at his plight. "Assholes…" he mumbled under his breath. He quickly lost his train of thought as he noticed the wall that was now laid bare, empty of its shelf. The exposed wall was made of smaller bricks joined together with crumbling mortar, not the heavy dwarven stone that composed the rest of the Tower. It appeared as though the space was once a doorway but had been haphazardly concealed. If he was correct, then behind that lay the phylactery chamber. In it would be housed the phylacteries of all the Tower's apprentices; finding and destroying Jowan's would insure that the Templars would have no way of tracking him once he'd escaped. He wished that his own phylactery would be within the chamber, but it had been transferred to a storehouse in Denerim shortly after his harrowing.

"If you're done laughing at me, help me up. I think I found a way into the chamber."

Jowan held out his hand and pulled Julius to his feet. They examined the weak section of the wall and debated how best to take it down. Julius suggested freezing the wall and putting another rock fist through it, but Jowan's mana was low and they didn't have any lyrium potions. It was Lily that suggested the rod of fire; however, fire alone couldn't bring down the bricks. Digging through the magical treasure trove, they located what appeared to be small cannon formed in the shape of a mabari war hound. Julius examined the cannon and noticed that the firing chamber seemed to be full of fine black powder. He grinned at Jowan and Lily, eyes dancing with the promise of potential explosions. He gestured for Jowan to help, and together the two mages dragged the mabari cannon in front of the wall. The three stood back as Julius touched the rod of fire to the black powder. They were all knocked off their feet as the cannon roared to life and blasted it's payload into the crumbling brick.

When the dust settled they crept towards the now-gaping hole in the wall. Julius was the first to enter the chamber, shivering in the chill air as a light fog swirled around his feet. "I guess they have to keep it cold to keep all the blood fresh?"

Lily shuddered. "I don't want to know the particulars, let's just find Jowan's phylactery and get out of here as quickly as possible!" Her voice trembled with exhaustion and fear. She was right, they had already been away too long, someone surely would have noticed their absence.

Jowan and Julius began searching the shelves; it was Jowan who discovered the pattern. "I think they're in alphabetical order and maybe by year of arrival?" Armed with that knowledge they quickly located his phylactery. Julius marveled at the small vial of blood, taken from Jowan when he had first entered the Tower. It was a tool that the Templars used to track escaped mages, the blood was used as a focus for their location spells. Jowan twirled the vial between his thumb and forefinger. "Such a small thing…" He dropped the vial to the floor, where it immediately shattered on the cold stone. Julius conjured a small fireball, flinging it amidst the spilt blood. Once the blood had burned away, they exited the chamber as swiftly as they were able.

"How does it feel to be free man, Jowan?" Julius smirked as the trio climbed the dungeon stairs.

"You speak of freedom to easily, my friend." Despite the pessimistic words, there was a lightness to Jowan's step that he hadn't seen in quite a while.

Julius opened the final door, walking quickly through; eager to get back to his room before his absence was noted. "Oh c'mon, the hard part is over! We were awesome! Compared to this getting out the front door is going to be…" He froze mid-step, Jowan and Lily slamming into him from behind. In front of him stood the Knight Commander and First Enchanter flanked by four large Templars. Duncan stood off to the side; his eyes were darting between the frightened mages and the leaders of the Tower, curious as to how the events would unfold.

"There, you see Irving! The rumors of were true; mages and an initiate conspiring together!" The Knight Commander's voice echoed across the hall. He stalked forward, sword drawn.

Lily threw herself in front of the two mages, arms out as if that would protect them should the Templar's charge. "Th-there was no conspiracy! We were simply gathering some supplies from…" Lily's voice was silenced as Greagoir backhanded the poor girl.

"The punishment for assisting mages in an escape is a life sentence in Aeonar Prison."

Julius moved to place himself between the angry Commander and Lily when he felt a dark, menacing energy building at his back. He turned, mouth gaping in horror and disbelief at the sight of Jowan, knife in hand, with blood dripping from his outstretched arm. He had only a moment to brace himself from the heavy concussive wave that flowed out from Jowan. He needn't have bothered, for the spell knocked only enemies from their feet.

Jowan held out his uninjured hand to Lily. "C'mon, we have to hurry if we're going to escape."

Lily stared at Jowan as if she had never met the man. Her eyes hardened, hate replacing tears. "I will go nowhere with you, Maleficar!"

The agony evident in Jowan's face was hard for Julius to bear; but harder still was the knowledge that his friend had lied to him. He didn't care that he had helped a blood mage destroy his phylactery and plot his escape; that was all secondary. What mattered was that the man he loved and considered a brother since being forced into this awful place had betrayed his trust. There were no words to describe the hurt and confusion. Jowan turned to face him, the question in his eyes an obvious plea for Julius to join him. Julius could barely focus on the man, he blinked furiously trying to clear his vision and get control of the situation. As Jowan opened his mouth to speak, Julius shook his head, unwilling to hear anything that came from the mage. Jowan's eyes widened momentarily but then he nodded, risking one more look at Lily before he turned and ran towards the exit, fleeing from the Tower.

The Templars and the First Enchanter had regained their feet, but Julius remained standing, stock-still, staring at the open door where his friend had departed. He didn't notice Knight Commander Greagoir walk up behind him and he barely felt his knees hit the floor as they were kicked inward. He didn't even resist as shackles were placed on his wrist. The First Enchanter's voice sounded miles away as he asked Julius why he had assisted Jowan instead of coming to him with his concerns. He said nothing; in too much shock to even protest as the Knight Commander outlined all his possible punishments. It was only when Duncan cleared his throat and demanded attention that Julius was finally able to make sense of what was happening. And what was happening was almost too much to be believed. 'Holy Andraste, Bride of the Maker, I didn't want it this way' he thought as he was pulled to his feet and violently thrust towards the Warden Commander. Duncan caught the stumbling mage and led him gently from the Tower. He stepped across the threshold of Kinloch Hold feeling sun on his face and grass beneath his boots for the first time in 20 years. He raised his head towards the horizon, considering the future laid out before him. Julius Amell, former circle mage, was on his way to become a Gray Warden.


End file.
